


Pocky Game

by ParadoxRose



Series: Jazzpunk/PolyEd Drabbles [4]
Category: Jazzpunk (Video Game)
Genre: Guess Who's Back, M/M, MORE POLYED DRABBLES, Title explains most, how do I tag this?, prompted fic, yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 13:10:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12841863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadoxRose/pseuds/ParadoxRose
Summary: Editor invites Polyblank to play another game.





	Pocky Game

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve literally never had Pocky Sticks. Ever. I live in Australia we don’t get them.
> 
> Credit where credit is due, this was requested by Thanksforthefish

“Come on Polyblank, you’re not _scared_ are you?”

Polyblank kept staring at the innocent snack held between Editor’s fingers. Faint red coloured his cheeks at the mere thought of the game that had been suggested.

Editor tilted his head with a knowing smirk, the light catching on his glasses.

“Polyblank?” He repeated. The spy’s gaze flickered to Editor before he gulped, and nodded slowly. Editor’s smirk widened to a smile, albeit one a little too pleased, and put one end of the pocky stick between his teeth. He raised an eyebrow invitingly, and Polyblank gulped again.

He was never sure of Editor’s intentions, but this was downright confusing. This game was nowhere near as exciting as sport or gravy boat racing, and usually when someone did this it meant they were wholeheartedly willing to ki- nope, don’t think about that. It couldn’t be that.

Polyblank copied Editor, shuffling as close as he dared. Editor shifted before restraining his smile, as if he were trying to give the impression that this was a completely serious battle of wills. The two glanced at each other before beginning to eat away at the stick, gradually moving in closer. It was slow, as if neither wanted to get anywhere fast. At about a third of the way there, Polyblank could see the deep blush colouring Editor’s own face, and the _exact_ moment the antagonist realised that maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. It made Polyblank smile and almost laugh, if not for the fact that he was obliged to not remove his mouth. Editor glared at the reaction and a determined look settled on his face as he moved closer.

Oh god. Now he’d done it.

Now a quarter of the way, Polyblank faltered. They were getting really close to each other now, and his face was burning out of embarrassment. Editor seemed to be keeping his gaze focused on Polyblank’s nose.

“It’s not too late to quit.” Editor muttered, teeth clenched around the pocky stick. Polyblank really and truly did consider it, but if there was one thing that could win over his awkwardness, it was his childish need to beat the Editor. Entering the metaphorical home stretch, Editor’s eyes widened almost unnoticeably. HIs entire face looked like a sunburnt tomato and he kept looking at Polyblank as if urging him to quit. Polyblank smiled; Editor’s will was faltering, and he was about to win. Polyblank ate a little more a bit too enthusiastically, and Editor wrenched his head away, looking to the side and down at the floor. Polyblank grinned and held his arms above his head victoriously, the rest of the stick poking out of his mouth like a cigarette. Editor glared daggers to both Polyblank and the floor, flickering between the two as he obviously tried to get himself under control. Polyblank pulled a face and scrunched up his nose, rubbing in his victory, and Editor tensed. He was even shaking a little. Polyblank relaxed, looking quite pleased with himself, and that was it. Editor launched himself forward, gripping Polyblank’s thighs for balance as he took the rest of the stick in his mouth. Unfortunately, he had given himself a little too much momentum, and the result was also capturing Polyblank’s lips in a clumsy kiss. Polyblank’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and Editor, realisation hitting, dropped back. Neither one of them said anything, staring at each other. Editor slowly turned into a tomato again. Polyblank’s train of thought was continuously buffering and stuttering and even if he was the kind of guy who spoke often, he still would have been speechless.

Editor glanced away again, and Polyblank thought he saw a smile before the antagonist quickly jumped up.

“You can show yourself out.” Editor blurted before practically sprinting out another door.


End file.
